


Exiled

by ooheijiiro



Series: Talon and Kayn [2]
Category: League of Legends
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Desperation, Fluff and Angst, Forced Prostitution, Gang Rape, Homophobic Language, How Do I Tag, M/M, Plot, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Smut, kayns a bitch, lots of smut, mostly talon x kayn sett is just sorta there at times but no emotion, please protect talon, talon is hurt, theyre all bitches, will add as story goes on idk what im doing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:40:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25082527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ooheijiiro/pseuds/ooheijiiro
Summary: [SEQUEL TO ASSASSIN'S PRIDE]To have been humiliated and pleasured by an Ionian assassin, Talon Du Couteau brought forth shame into the face of Noxus. Without the slightest feelings of remorse, General Darius revoked his rights to call himself a Noxian.This scared, unprotected child at heart, complies out of fear.And he decides that there is nowhere to go than to the person that caused his very downfall, Shieda Kayn.SMUT CHAPTERS: 4
Relationships: Talon Du Couteau/Sett (League of Legends), Talon Du Couteau/Shieda Kayn
Series: Talon and Kayn [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1816576
Comments: 27
Kudos: 88





	1. Runaway

**Author's Note:**

> someone asked for a sequel on the original so i decided.... why not i wanted to do it too SO here i am :)

He trudged along with a weak limp. His vision was hazy and the cold air bit at his skin, the only warmth being the torn rag that barely hid his body. His skin, milky white and arbitrarily decorated with cuts, peeked through where the fabric couldn’t cover. The few that ran errands around the ominous city stopped to look at him, out of either pity or disgust. His eyes that once glimmered with insatiable bloodlust now lifelessly guided him without a destination.

He gazed up to see the sky clouded over with a suffocating fog. The sunlight that once shone brightly began to diminish to an orange-purple hue. The color would be admirable if it didn’t signify his last breathing moments on this land.

The place he walked along can no longer be considered his homeland. Death seemed appealing, but his soul would be restless if his life ended without even a vain attempt to survive. That wasn’t the Du Couteau teachings that he was raised upon, even if he only held shame to that name. 

A gust of wind fluttered by again, sending goosebumps along every inch of his skin. His teeth chattered together, his chapped lips threatening to crack at any moment. He sucked in his breath and walked against the wind’s currents, following the brick pavement to the border of Noxus.

The familiar brick wall rose above him, its height shrouded by the smog. The exit itself seemed puny next to the wall and was guarded by two armored soldiers. Noxus’ symbol was embroidered into the metal of their shoulders and they each wielded long, sleek blades. 

“Name and occupation,” One of the guards demanded. 

He shot him a look, though it was clear his expression wasn’t as intimidating as he hoped it to be. His lips opened as he began to conjure a cocky statement, only to remind himself of the position he was in. He stopped for a brief moment before answering.

“Talon Du Couteau. Exiled.”

The guards’ faces were masked off with an iron visor, but Talon could only assume their expressions. Amused? Shocked? Disgusted? It didn’t matter, but the thought rang in his head. The men hastily unlocked the metal gate of the exit. On the other side, the path abruptly transitioned from brick to arid dirt. He walked forward, the dirt crunching beneath his iron boots.

The gates immediately shut behind him, the sudden clang echoing before it dissipated into silence. He was out. Out of Noxus. 

For a brief moment, he stood there without doing anything. Part of him felt like breaking down and collapsing into the clumps of dry weed on the floor, waiting to rot away for the vultures to feast on. The logistical side of him told him to find shelter. Talon snorted to himself, as if that weren’t a stupidly obvious thing to do. 

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard the distant wail of a cargo followed by a puft of steam arising in the horizon. If he’d remembered correctly, the safest places that were of Noxian vicinity were either Ionia or Bilgewater, two distinct islands. Bilgewater wasn’t known for guaranteeing the safest water travels, but Ionia held a gruesome grudge against Noxus. Both weren’t the best, Ionians  _ might  _ feel pitiful for a victim of assault like him, right?   
  
_ Kayn was the one who assaulted you.  _ His thoughts reminded him. A bleak shiver ran up his spine, the residual stickiness between his thighs feeling prominent yet again. Every touch and mark felt so vivid still, each cut a reminder of his dignity.

Talon shook the sudden remembrance of the event from his head and limped in the direction of the cargo. From what he could remember, once the sun completely sets will be when the next ship sets sail to Ionia. 

The shore was scattered with docks, a vast majority of them empty and undocked. Tides splashed against the wood, staining it a darker shade of ebony. Twilight painted the sky with a glimmer of sunlight still peeking at the hem of the horizon. He had little time, but there was still enough. 

There was an abundance of men loading the ship with crates. The area was barricaded with a short, barbed wire. Talon dug out a rock from the crevices of sand and experimentally threw it at the fence. No electricity, how careless. 

Once the last person stepped on board, Talon swiftly leapt from a mount of rocks over the barbed wire. He landed with a thump, leaving a crimson stain in the dent of the sand. The gravel adhered to his knees and knuckles from fresh blood. Few wounds along his body threatened to open again. The worn out rag that he called his clothes was now stained red along some patches. 

He didn’t have time to reminisce on the pain. The flurry of steam bellowed from the ship again. Talon ran onto the dock as best he could with the arid and thick sand below him. His metal boots clinked with the wood before he leapt again, the ship already undocking itself. 

He landed onto the back with a thud. Unfamiliar voices spoke in a ragged, Ionian slur from the front of the deck. The ship was large enough to support buildings. The crates that littered the deck made it impossible to navigate. Below deck, the men would sleep, he assumed. He would be safest hiding on deck. 

Light gleamed from the head of the ship, but it was too distant to be of any guidance. Any sunlight was now replaced with the faint moonlight that managed to peek through the thick layers of clouds. Talon shivered at the cold air that swayed against the ship’s movement. His body felt sore in the same way one feels when they catch the common cold. The feeble fabric that he desperately clung to did nothing to warm him up. 

He physically felt fatigued and tired despite his mind swimming with thoughts. He felt restless, yet unable to move. He stumbled about, making his way in between crates and boxes. His thin build made it easy to slip in and out of the smallest crevices, and this was no exception. The wood felt cool against his skin, to his disliking, but there was little he could complain about. 

He sat down with his knees hugged against his chest. An involuntary wince left his lips when he’d forgotten about the cuts that met one another on his skin. He threw his head back against the wood, looking upwards to the dimly lit sky. Even if he was barely on the premise of Noxian borders, the sky looked nothing like it. It was fogged over with white clouds rather than thick, gray smog. The air no longer suffocated his lungs, but rather felt easy to breathe in. It was rather nice, if he’d forgotten about all of his current problems.

He sighed, the warmth of his own breath pleasant on his shivering skin. He let his eyes flutter close, succumbing to his physical exhaustion. And there, he slept, on his way to Ionian lands without a plan in mind. 


	2. Caught

Talon awoke so abruptly that it was nearly impossible to tell that he had even slept. Unrecognizable slurs and commands from the crew bellowed on all parts of the deck. He sat up slightly, his joints dully aching from the tight position he huddled himself into through the night. Peeking past the crate in front of him, he could see the silhouette of Ionia. 

If he’d ever seen beauty, this was it. Structures adorned the mountains perfectly, the oriental architecture soaring alongside nature. The distant chirping of birds could be heard, something Talon had only read from books. Waterfalls hugged the hills in the distance, and trees of colors--pink, red, orange--he never imagined possible flourished. 

As much as he would have liked to admire the scenery from the ship, he knew there were more serious things he had to worry about. Despite being rested, he still felt fatigued and weak. His face felt warm and flushed, and his aching limbs felt worse than it did the night before. 

He could hear crates and chests being moved along the deck, dangerously nearing where he hid. Panic swelled within him. He hadn’t thought of how he planned to disembark the ship--safely, at least. 

The crate that supported his back shifted, widening the gap that he crouched in. Sweat beaded his skin and he tightened his grip on the fabric. A brief breeze glided past his skin. A shiver crawled down his spine and he crooked his head low, attempting to ignore the shadowy shape of a person in front of him.

A rough voice barked at him in an unfamiliar Ionian slur, and he attempted to appear lifeless. However, his obvious trembling and white knuckles gripped on the fabric gave it away.

The voice yelled something across to the other crews, signaling a stampede of footsteps to his direction. Thoughts racked in Talon’s mind as he scanned through every possible consequence of each decision. He considered leaping and making a run with it, but without his knives, he was as fragile as glass. If any one of the estimated hundreds of crew members were to catch him, he’d be dead meat. 

Despite thinking of possible escapes, his body refused to comply. He sat, petrified, as shadows overlapped each other above him. He still held his head low, refusing to acknowledge their presence. 

“What’s your name, and why are you here?” A scruffy voice slurred in a ragged Noxian dialect. Talon winced, slightly crooking his neck up, but not enough for his face to be visible. 

“Talon Du Couteau,” He squeaked. “I was... exiled.” 

The man huffed in acknowledgement, then proceeded to translate his words into Ionian. The group of men hummed in agreement. One man gave a suggestion, Talon assumed, because the group suddenly all nodded in agreement. 

“Get up,” The voice commanded. 

Talon complied, shakily standing up. He clung onto his tattered rag, desperately trying to conceal as much of his body as he could. Fingers locked behind his neck, not enough to choke him, but enough to make escaping a difficult task. 

The men led him along the ship and the rest of the crew members stopped to look. Talon held his head low and focused on his feet wobbling along. His vision was hazy and doubled at times. It took nearly all of his concentration to not collapse. 

The dock creaked as he stepped onto it and the grip behind his neck felt tighter than before. His muscles tensed, but he didn’t resist. He welcomed the feeling of land against his steel boots when he felt the world beneath him still for a moment. He slightly crooked his neck upwards to glimpse at his surroundings. 

A rocky path led down a grove, hiding anything past that point. The men led him along it, and the faint ruckus of the ship grew quieter. Talon eyed the greenery--which wasn’t enough to describe the vivid colors. Pink petals decorated the path and a few swept past his face. In Noxus, finding a patch of flowers was quite the beauty. This seemed like something taken from a novel.

Talon’s admiring was quickly interrupted when he caught a glimpse of what was ahead of the winding path. A temple could be seen in the distance isolated atop a mountain. The aura around itself seemed no longer inviting and tranquil, but rather gloomy, much like Noxus. Fog swept around the top of the temple and Talon could feel a stream of wind scurry up his spine. 

The men, unfazed, continued on in the direction of the temple. The lush forest was soon abandoned and they began climbing up rocky, jagged stairs carved along the mountain. With each step, the overlapping clinking of their footsteps echoed into the chasm created by the sierras. 

They halted to a stop in front of the temple’s entrance. A rusty door knocker was planted on each door and rested within a carved dragon’s head. One of the men knocked with the rusty hoop and sent a bellowing bang through the iron doors. 

Soon enough, the hinges creaked open, and a boy no older than 15 greeted them with a bow. He wore a black-woven cloth shirt tucked into hakama tied with a rope--similar to Kayn’s attire. 

The man with the scruffy voice huffed a question to the boy, and he squeaked something back in response before scurrying off. The grip on Talon’s neck tightened again as they pulled him inside the temple.

Its interior wasn’t much more inviting than the exterior. It was dimly lit with lanterns placed high on the walls. The ceiling was high up, and no windows were visible. Doors--more than he could count--were found one after another along the wall. Hallways crossed one another, though one distinctly led to a grander room. 

Talon was dragged along into the said room, though it appeared mostly unoccupied. A girl was sweeping the floor, wearing attire similar to the boy from before, but paid no attention to the sudden intrusion. 

Suddenly, a new and unfamiliar voice huffed behind them, though it sounded unclear, as if muffled. With blinding fast reaction, Talon attempted to dash behind him, but he felt a painful pressure on his neck. When he tilted his head to look behind his shoulder, the man who held his neck shot him a threatening glare. 

What he also saw was another figure. He wore metal armor and a mask, with slits in his eyes and by his mouth to breathe. A red glow emitted from the eye sockets, and the figure was taller than him. How was it that he couldn’t have sensed the presence of somebody wielding so much armor?

“Who are you?” The voice demanded in a fluent Noxian dialect. Talon furrowed his brows, before reluctantly answering. 

“Talon Du Couteau. I was exiled from the hands of Noxus.”

Even without seeing his face, Talon could tell that the masked man wasn’t expecting that answer. His body tensed, and his shallow breath fell silent.

“Shieda”, Was all he said and snapped his armored fingers. 

Suddenly, through the wall, a figure walked through. Talon, with wide eyes and his mouth agape, jolted backwards.

Or at least he attempted to. 

“K...Kayn...” Talon croaked out, thrashing his arms and legs. He spat onto the men’s faces, attempting to bite their hands--anything he could do to run. He no longer cared that his most humiliating parts that had been barely covered by the dirtied rag was being exposed. The fear that welled up in him overtook all of his emotions, and he didn’t even know why. 

“Why does this murderer know your Noxian name, Shieda?” The masked figure asked. Kayn, just as Talon remembered, wore nothing to hide his chest. Despite the room being dimly lit, he could now make out his appearance better. His right side was overtaken by the darkin, and his eyes still had that ominous glow. 

Kayn inverted his gaze and fiddled with his thumbs, like guilt washed over him. He didn’t answer.

“You were ordered to kill him. Tell me why he is here, in the Order of Shadows. Now.”

The masked man sounded angry, nearly bellowing his words. The shadows casted by everyone’s figures appeared almost like they were bound to take form and possibly murder someone. 

“Master Zed... I simply had some fun with him. He wasn’t going to have any chance to keep assassinating, I made sure of that,” Kayn reassured, though his voice faltered when he spoke.

“The Du Couteau son was once homeless, Shieda. This lifestyle is what he’s used to. What makes you think he would not murder with even a careless shard of metal found in the sewers?” 

Talon felt somewhat uncomfortable knowing that his past was known by a person he doesn’t even know. Though, that uncomfort was replaced by panic once he came to the realization that he was in the Order of Shadows. His hopes of being pitied in Ionia would be, least to say, shattered.

“Killing him here would damage our reputation to all the fellow acolytes and the rest of Ionia,” Zed sighed. The men who held him eyed each other cautiously, and nodded in a silent agreement. 

“Master Zed, he was found hiding in the cargo this morning,” One of the men explained. “We brought him here before he would cause any harm.” 

Zed nodded, though he didn’t have a direct answer for them. He held out his hand, gesturing with his finger to hand the boy over. Soon enough, Talon was thrown in Zed’s direction, and caught by the shoulders by his armored hand.

“Master Zed,” Kayn began. “I can take care of him, if it pleases you. After all, it was I who didn’t do as you asked. I sincerely apologize, but I will ensure the safety of everyone. He will not be of harm to anyone.”

The offer sent a dreadful chill down Talon’s spine. Talon shook his head desperately, looking up at Zed in near desperation. The Kayn he saw now was nothing like the one who had took away his last human rights, and it scared him. 

Zed, seeing how reluctant Talon was, asked Kayn, “Why are you suggesting this?” 

“Look at those pathetic cuts drawn on his body, do you truly think that’s enough for Rhaast to feel satisfied?” Kayn gestured towards Talon. “Plus, Master Zed, engaging in... desirable activities with other acolytes may cause disruption, and I have been needing a source of release.”

Zed considered for a few moments, and to Talon’s horror, nodded in agreement. 

“Very well, Shieda, I will see how it will be for a week. If everything is running smoothly per usual, you may keep this... toy.” He tossed Talon towards Kayn, who caught him with ease. Talon stumbled, his face resting against Kayn’s chest before pushing himself away. When he looked up to meet his eyes, Kayn gazed at him with those excited, sadistic eyes like he had on that night.

“Thank you, Master Zed. Come, Talon. I will show you where you will be staying from now on,” Kayn gestured to Talon, who was on the verge of tears as he desperately looked at the figures slowly disappearing behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! sorry i took so long to update, i was having big writer's block ;; how is the story so far? i don't really know if its pace is good, but i wanna get to writing the smut asap bc i know that's what a lot of people are probably here for. expect it in the next few chapters! anyways, thank you for reading and criticism is welcome as always :)


	3. Acceptance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: this chapter has brief mentions of anorexia/body image. please proceed with care if you're sensitive to these topics. enjoy :)

Kayn’s fabricated grin was wiped from his expression the moment his back faced Zed. His eyebrows tightly knit together and he clenched his jaw hard enough that a bulging vein was visible along his neck. His darkin claw fisted itself into Talon’s hair and pulled him down one of the many halls.

“What do you want from me?” Talon spat once they were far enough from the crowd that his words would be inaudible. 

Kayn didn’t answer, but his darkin eye glimmered disapprovingly. Talon didn’t shift his gaze from the acolyte before accepting that Kayn wasn’t planning to acknowledge him.

They climbed up generous flights of stairs before stopping at a particular door no different from the rest. Kayn shoved the door open with a thud as it hit the wall inside and heaved Talon inside with little pity. Talon winced when he hit the cold, ebony flooring.

Kayn locked the door behind him with a click before turning to face the nude figure sprawled out along the floor. 

“Why did you come here?” Kayn demanded, his expression all but bored. Talon furrowed his brows, and in a feeble attempt to resist, he spat onto the floor.

Kayn’s expression remained unfazed. He walked over to the figure glaring up at him and crouched down to eye level. He pulled him in by the hair with his hand. 

“Why did you come here?” He persisted, this time completely locking his gaze with Talon. “If you don’t want to answer,” He paused, running the tip of his claw down Talon’s torso, tracing around each wound inflicted. “You can enjoy your last few living moments as Rhaast’s dessert. How about it?”

As if on command, the scabbed wounds on his body suddenly felt painful. He gulped, his throat feeling oddly clenched and his mouth terribly dry.

“I... thought that you scums might welcome a poor exile like me,” He croaked.

“Liar.” Kayn decided. He let go of his grip on Talon’s hair, letting the boy fall limply to the floor. He stood himself back up as if to admire a masterpiece he created. He turned his back to him and faced the locked door. 

“You’ve caused me a great deal of trouble, Talon. I will take my time with you, truly,” He promised, before his figure dissipated into a shadow that melted through the wall.

The sudden moment of silence and peacefulness only had Talon on his utmost edge. His heart seemed to pound in his ears as he attempted to listen for the sound of even the faintest step. Eventually, his muscles laxed and he shut his eyes; he could almost see himself back inside the Du Couteau Manor.

The room distinctively smelled of nothing but Kayn, which bothered Talon. A musky scent too suffocating for him to breathe in with the faintest floral aroma. No matter how he tried to ignore the pain that stung at his skin, or the aching in his limbs, nothing could shake off the reality of the moment.

Talon shakily sat himself up; the hard, wood flooring unpleasant against his tailbone. He examined his surroundings instinctively: A wooden bed topped with neatly tucked sheets, an empty wooden desk, a flimsy chair that had a pair of used pants hanging on it, and a shut wooden door. 

Curiously, Talon attempted to walk over to the desk, but only managed to crawl. It looked unused and covered with a sheen of dust. With quivering fingers, Talon managed to pull the drawer out with a creak. Inside, lay a messy pile of papers that appeared untouched. Sitting atop the mess was a singular photograph stained a yellowish color from age.

It was a photograph of a young Kayn amongst a field of grass and petals. Zed stood behind him--unmasked--holding up the boy by the waist with a grin. The imagery seemed so unfitting for who they were, but Talon decided to not hold prejudice. 

He slotted the image back to where he found it and shut the drawer, his finger now also coated in a thick layer of dust. He leaned his back against the side of Kayn’s bed, ever so slightly crooking his neck so that his head laid on the edge of the mattress. He sighed when he felt the cool silk touch his head, before it became oddly distinct of how cold his body felt. He could almost feel how comforting it would be to lay beneath those sheets and doze away--but that all seemed like a fantasy too good to be true, despite the answer being right there.

He knew that he should be finding a way to escape, but both his body and mind no longer listened to the meak voice that called out in the back of his mind. He survived better in the gutters and streets, where he could scavenge for resources. Here--where he was held captive and stripped of everything, literally--he had little hope to escape. Without the comfort of a blade in his hand, his body was nothing more than a live corpse.

The exhaustion had begun to toll on his body despite having not done anything physically demanding. His limbs ached with a burn even more fatiguing and his vision swam each time he attempted to focus. He shut his eyes in an attempt to feel at peace, and to his delight, his consciousness gave out.

Various dreams roamed his mind as he slept. A conglomeration of nightmares, each more unexplanatory than the next. Beasts chased him while he murdered, yet he was also falling into an endless void. He could comprehend nothing but terror, and that was enough for him to know that he wanted out. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” A raspy voice called out to him from more than one direction. He shook his head viciously in his sleep, but he could only witness the nightmaric disaster around him. 

Then suddenly, he felt a pain shoot up his ribcage. The world around him suddenly reverted back into something he could comprehend--Kayn’s room. His vision was blurry when his eyes suddenly jolted awake and he instantly turned his head to the direction of the pain he felt. There stood a very unamused looking Kayn.

He wore the same attire as Talon last remembered, except this time Kayn appeared more tired. His breath was evidently heavier, and a layer of sweat coated his chest and arms. 

“Don’t ignore me,” Kayn demanded. Talon was dumbfounded, before remembering the voice that had called out to him amidst his terrors. 

He opened his mouth to begin to speak, but struggled to find the right words to string together. He briefly thought for a moment before answering, “I fell asleep.”

Kayn hummed in response, though he didn’t look very satisfied. “Rhaast, you do your job?”

“For as long as you wish, I will inflict nothing but the deepest terrors on all humans,” The darkin grumbled for the first time. Talon shivered, hearing the unfamiliar voice speak. Kayn nodded in response to the scythe--which to Talon’s surprise, had been propped next to his bed the entire time.

Kayn cocked a brow at Talon’s evident reaction to hearing the darkin speak and snickered. “First time with a darkin? Rhaast tends to have fun with his victims, see.”

Talon frowned and lowered his neck, not responding, verbally, at least. Kayn took the silent treatment as enough of an answer. The latter walked towards a clothes drawer, taking out neatly folded stacks of clothing. He wound his fingers into his braid, his finger gently unlooping the hair tie tightly wrapped around the end of his hair. His hair loosened, but was still held in its shape as he set the tie onto the dresser.

“I’m going to shower. After I am done, I expect you to do the same,” He stated. “You smell like shit.”

Talon nodded to his first statement, ignoring the insensitive remark. He looked down at his thighs, scabbed over and dusted over with dirt. He hadn’t seen his own reflection since he left Noxus. He could only imagine how disheveled he looked.

The unopened door that adorned the wall was opened for the first time. The sound of marble flooring against Kayn’s footsteps was enough for Talon to assume that was the bathroom. Though, this thought made him uncomfortable. Everything--other than food--was accessible in one room alone. Just the idea of confinement admittedly made him shudder.

The door creaked shut behind Kayn as the sound of water starting in the pipes could be heard through the wall. Talon glanced up at the ceiling, his thoughts loosely swimming about. It didn’t take long for Kayn to finish, to Talon’s disappointment, since that marked the end of his peace. 

Kayn stepped out looking nearly identical to how he looked going in, except his pants were woven out of a softer fabric. His hair appeared even longer when unbraided and wet, and the pitter patter of water drops made a wet trail along where Kayn went.

“You don’t got clothes, huh? What happened to what you wore that night? I know I didn’t fuck it up that much,” Kayn asked as he eyed Talon. 

“Darius took them,” He blatantly replied. “I had enough to cover me before you took that away too.”

Kayn snickered. “That piece of cloth could be used as a hair tie for me, not apparel.”

Amidst their brief conversation, Kayn threw a black jinbei in Talon’s direction. It landed on the floor next to him, and Talon suspiciously looked at the clothing before redirecting his eyes back to Kayn.

“Wear that. I don’t like shirts anyway, and I don’t want to see your anorexic corpse all day long,” He spat, throwing himself onto the bed with a gentle thud. 

Talon snatched the jinbei before attempting to stand up. His knees trembled and he had to prop himself up against the desk to not tumble over. His legs felt weak and sore--so sore that he could barely move them.

“Can’t walk? Weren’t you a lethal assassin two nights ago?” Kayn mocked. Talon’s face grew flustered out of shame. He didn’t want to be witnessed like this by anyone, not even someone he once trusted like Katarina. To hear such remarks pained him to say the least. 

“Just haven’t moved around in a while,” Talon lied before heaving in a breath and letting go of his hands on the desk. His legs threatened to fall over again when he attempted a step forward. He nearly stumbled if it weren’t for the wall that he desperately clung to as he shuffled towards the bathroom door.

The inside of the bathroom was surprisingly organized for a man. It was small, but enough to take care of one’s basic needs. There was one sink decorated with various products labelled in distinct Ionian. There was a toilet, and in front of it was the shower. He slid open the glass door, nearly tumbling inside from the slippery marble floor. He held a grip on the shower’s handle and turned it to the midpoint. 

Once the water had been relatively warm, Talon hastily stepped inside. The water trickled past his cuts that stung in response as he steadied himself. He leaned his head back, attempting to run the water through his hair until his fingers were met with various knots. He eyed the shelves that cornered the shower and he could spot a comb dotted with water. A few strands of hair laced through it. No doubtedly Kayn had just used it prior.

Talon decided to grab a hold of the wooden comb, and gently pried it past his hair. The knot was stubborn and pulled against his scalp, but eventually loosened itself. It felt like he’s been doing it forever with how much his arms ached as he continuously brushed it, but the task was completed without much trouble. 

He tested his newly brushed hair and ran his fingers through it again, enjoying the silky sensation of it when running through water. He eyed the bottles of shampoo and various other hair care products. Thankfully, a few of the less flashy products had Noxian scripture translated below it. He took a generous amount and lathered it in his hair.

The scent of the products smelled too strongly of Kayn than Talon would’ve preferred. Nevertheless, he appreciated the fact that he no longer felt soiled. Between his thighs he aggressively scrubbed away the dried up semen that stuck to it. It came off in dried pieces, to his disgust, but he was rather thankful to have it off his body.

He soon finished showering, and when he shakily stepped out again, he was greeted with a steamy bathroom. The warmth encased him and he felt euphoric. He believed that such a feeling was impossible for him after merely a few days.

He slipped on the yinbei. The fabric was silky to the touch and felt like heaven against his skin. He wiped the mirror with his hand in an attempt to see himself through the steam. His face, obviously Noxian, wearing the clothes of an Ionian. He would’ve preferred something more covering, but it would be a lie to say he disliked this.

When he stumbled out the bathroom door, Kayn was now sitting up on his bed, muttering to himself. Immediately upon his presence, though, Kayn stopped himself and looked over at Talon. 

“Enjoyed yourself in there? Took you a while,” Kayn snorted, giving an obviously sexual implication.

“My hair was tangled,” Talon admitted. He was blunt and straightforward. Kayn rolled his eyes with a sarcastic chuckle before sighing in place. 

Talon returned to sit on the floor like he was previously, relieved from no longer needing to strain his legs. Despite the cold air of the room in comparison to the shower, his face was still flushed. 

“How’s the floor?” Kayn asked after a drawn out moment of silence between their last exchange. It was clear in his tone that he was mocking him.

“It’s fine,” Talon replied. He wasn’t lying. The floor was something he was used to. Compared to sewers and alleys, this was already luxurious.

Kayn hummed in response, keeping his eye on the assassin who huddled on the floor. A sly grin crept on his face and he wet his lips with his tongue. 

“Why don’t you join me on this bed, Talon?”


	4. Know Your Place (18+)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> smut... it has happened. the wild, abusive smut. the smut that all of our horny asses have waited for (including me)
> 
> contains slight homophobia, orgasm denial, and actually kinda gentle at first but VERY non-con. literal pure smut. you can just read this chapter on its own honestly.

_ “Why don’t you join me on this bed, Talon?” _

Talon shook his head, the droplets of water that clung onto his wet hair dabbing the floor in small taps. The drips seemed to be the only thing breaking the uneasy silence that fell between them.

“I don’t want to...” He admitted, the words just barely making it past his chapped lips. “The floor is fine. I enjoy the cold.”

“You say that while shivering,” Kayn pointed out. Indeed, Talon’s torso trembled uncontrollably, and occasionally his leg would twitch in response to abrupcies. Talon flexed his muscles as best he could in an attempt to stifle his shaking. 

“Come here,” He persisted. Talon shifted his knees on the floor decisively and clenched his fist against the floor. 

“Do you wish to die?” Kayn offered, his voice reaching octaves so low he reckoned the darkin spoke in his place. His pupils were clouded as he stared down at the boy shivering on his floor. A hazy excitement bloomed in the pits of his stomach. The same, physical lust he felt a few nights prior.

The remnants of their past rendezvous only fueled his urge to take him here and now. The pent up frustration that blossomed from his hours of training on his poor, overworked muscles begged to be released--and a possible outlet presented itself.

What entertained him was  _ knowing  _ the fact that no matter how the assassin responded, his fate would end the same. It was inevitable for Kayn to not indulge himself in the feast he brought in himself, and they both knew. He found it sadistically amusing to watch his prey desperately crawl away from an unavoidable outcome.

Talon refused to answer, fearing that a single wrong word that slips past his mouth might determine his last living moments on Runeterra or not--and he wasn’t wrong. The uneven spaces of silence that fell between each time beads of water hit the floor was filled with unease for Talon. He could feel the predatory gaze carving into his skin.

“What’s the hassle? You actually want to die?” Kayn chuckled. “Rhaast, you hear that? We’ll  _ both  _ have a feast tonight!”

Talon hissed under his breath before shakily standing himself up. His legs stumbled and he fell forward, steadying himself with his arms onto the bed. That ache that numbed his limbs only caused him to shiver even more.

Kayn didn’t answer; the action itself was more than enough for him to understand what Talon meant. It thrilled him, knowing very well the terror that racked in his thoughts as he succumbed. In gratitude, Kayn gently coiled his fingers around his neck.

The pressure was enough to cause Talon to flinch. Kayn rubbed his thumb against the rapidly pulsing vein on the side of his neck, gently applying pressure to it. Talon bit down on his lip as if to prepare himself for what was soon to come.

Kayn was gentler this time. His hand roamed down to Talon’s chest, gently caressing him past his yinbei. His purposely swept past the small nub on his chest, giving it a gentle rub before continuing to touch his torso.

The soothing, physical sensation did calm Talon down despite how much he despised it in his mind. Regardless, his body longed for the touch; the way his nimble fingers gently stroked all of his sensitive spots. The warmth that came from his touch felt near heavenly against his bleak skin.

“Enjoying yourself?” Kayn whispered, reaching up to the boy’s hair with his darkin arm, passionately running each claw past his hair. 

“Fuck off,” Talon spat. 

“It’s not your first time, anyway,” Kayn chuckled lowly. He stopped his hand from its exploration for a brief moment, bringing it up to Talon’s neck.

His darkin claw suddenly yanked back at his brown locks. Kayn took the tip of his pointer finger and rested it on his Adam’s Apple. He drew his finger down, tracing each lightly toned muscle with it. Talon twitched responsively whenever he managed to touch an especially sensitive spot. 

He pulled the boy forward so that his head rested in the crook of Kayn’s neck. He pulled his hand down to the pants of the jinbei, caressing the semi-hard lump that protruded from it.

Talon squirmed in response to the sudden touch. He could no longer see where Kayn planned to touch next. He was masked in Kayn’s familiar scent as he was forcibly held so closely against him.

A series of imperceptible, throaty gasps escaped Talon’s lips. His body felt weak and numb with such delicate pleasure that his mind detested. 

Kayn enjoyed watching the assassin melt under his skillful touch. He fondled Talon’s manhood with expertise--running his thumb against his clothed frenulum while stroking the shaft. It grew turgid with every swipe and twitched against his fingers. 

A mischievous grin curved along Kayn’s expression as he listened to the pretty whines that slipped past Talon’s lips.  _ Enough of this gentle play,  _ he thought.

“Look at you,” Kayn began, pausing the movements of his hands. Talon let out a breath he unknowingly held in, relaxing his muscles at the sudden loss of touch. “Ruined just from a few gentle touches.”

Talon shivered at his repulsive descriptions that were enough to bring him back to reality. His mind still felt hazy and his limbs weak. His attempt to retract from Kayn’s embrace resulted in nothing more than a gentle flick of his wrist that prodded against the Ionian’s waist. 

He bit down into Kayn’s neck with as much strength his jaw offered. His teeth trembled against the warm flesh and a bellowing string of curses filled the air.

He was pushed away and fell onto the floor with a loud thud. He tried to reflexively reach out with his hands to catch the fall only to land directly onto his wrist’s joints. He hissed in pain while hitting the floor and he began to doubt if the act of rebellion would have benefited him any more than the sense of pride he momentarily felt.

“Feisty, huh?” Kayn growled, lapping up the traces of blood left on his neck with his fingers. He stood himself up off the bed and eyed Talon with a bitter gaze. With his darkin claw, he picked up the boy with ease. An unintentional whimper left the latter’s lips. His grip was vice against Talon’s thin wrists and the mark imprinted on his skin threatened to wound at any moment.

Wasting no time, Kayn shoved the boy face first into the bed, landing with a thud. Kayn tore off the fabric from Talon’s thighs, too angry to acknowledge that the attire was his own. He forcibly heaved him up by the hips so that his ass perked upwards in his direction, his member straining against the untorn fabric. 

“I... I’m sorry..” Talon desperately pleaded, unable to comprehend the extent of the predicament he’s put himself into. Kayn ignored his cries, finding the words unnecessarily irritating. With the corrupted claw, he shoved his face into the pillow. 

“Shut up.”

Talon’s whines were muffled against the pillow. Kayn used his free hand to finger open the boy’s entrance. Talon cried out in pain, the dull pain burning him from behind. Kayn tugged on his hair as a warning, and his cries almost instantly muted.

He slid in another finger alongside the first, scissoring the ring of muscle open. Prying inside, his calloused fingertips swept past a tight bundle of nerves inside, invoking erratic spasms from Talon’s hips. 

“Fucking whore. Look at you, getting off from getting fingered. Weren’t you a homophobic bitch the last time I used this sleeve of yours?” Kayn spat, the words spitting daggers into Talon’s pride. He whined defensively, only to be pressed even harder against the pillow. 

“I didn’t tell you to speak.”

Talon desperately nodded against Kayn’s grip. He bit down on the pillow to stifle his voice. He felt so  _ disgusting-- _ disgustingly  _ good.  _

Kayn slid in a third finger, now smoothly sliding in and out with a generous concoction of slick coating his fingers. He scissored his fingers open, admiring the way the muscle so desperately clenched and contracted around his fingers. 

His fingers jabbed at Talon’s prostate gland, abusing the bundle of nerves. He admired how frantically his hips twitched and thrusted against his fingers. Fitting for a whore like him, he thought. 

Talon could feel himself the knot in his stomach threaten to let loose as much as his mind hated it. The pleasure was overwhelming. His thoughts weren’t coherent in his mind and all his body did was jut his hips against those assaulting digits stuffed inside him. 

His cock twitched desperately as it longed to be touched, but Kayn didn’t plan to give him that pleasure  _ nor  _ the pleasure of release. He withdrew his fingers once he felt that the boy’s frantic thrusts had been right before his climax--and he was right. Talon’s hole gaped and clenched around nothing. 

The latter turned his head back to look at Kayn with eyes clouded over with lust. Tears shone on his cheeks that were flushed a pretty pinkish hue. Kayn paid no mind to the pleading look that was aimed towards him.

He slid down the waistband of his own pants, his straining cock springing forward. It appeared even more monstrous from their previous rendezvous and Talon could only stare with a mix of lust and fear. 

A vein ran up the underside, bulging and red as the rest of the appendage. The tip, especially, flushed an angry shade of red and a pearl of precum adorned it. 

Talon really hadn’t had time to properly inspect his manhood like this the previous time, but panic swelled now that he has gotten that chance. Kayn prodded the swollen tip against Talon’s hole, still constricting around nothing. The pucker seemed to invite him in; kissing it. 

At his last attempt, Talon shook his head desperately and a small whimper left his lips. Kayn tightened his grip on his hair again--just to remind the assassin--and pushed himself in. 

Kayn sighed as he felt the warmth and slick envelope his throbbing cock. Talon froze, frantically shaking his hips the further Kayn pushed in. His mouth was agape but silent as if paralyzed by the sudden intrusion. 

Another grunt left Kayn’s lips as he settled himself in and used his human hand to pry open the boy’s cheeks, admiring how beautifully his hole took him in. 

“You like this, don’t you?” Kayn huffed, rubbing circles on his hips. Talon whined and shook his head. 

Kayn pulled out so that only the tip settled inside him, and he could feel Talon's muscles lax. He immediately pushed the appendage all the way in again, admiring how the Noxian’s back arched and his voice choked. 

He repeated this motion until he felt that the reactions were no longer amusing to him before beginning his vicious assault. His thrusts were like a beast in heat, taking no mercy on Talon’s poor, brutalized hole. 

Muffled cries could be heard from Talon, whose face was still mashed in the pillow. Kayn let go of the grip on his hair and rather flipped the boy over.

Talon’s expression had completely broken. A mix of sweat, tears, and snot drizzled down his face. His lengthy brown hair clung to his skin in messy patches and a sheen of sweat coated his body. Kayn lifted up his legs so that they were propped on his shoulders and took advantage of this position to reach deeper with his appendage.

“Stop... No more..” Talon blurted out, some of his other words barely even comprehensible. His moans were in time with Kayn’s thrusts that always glided directly past that bundle of nerves, but never enough to reach climax.

“But you enjoy this,” Kayn answered. The next half of his sentence became a mess of blurred Ionian that Talon couldn’t understand, but he could feel the throbbing manhood inside him swell in size and increase its pace.

Kayn wrapped a hand around Talon’s erection, pumping it in time with his own thrusts. The latter’s back arched nearly off the bed, his cries growing louder and more whiny to Kayn’s delight. 

_ He doesn’t deserve orgasm,  _ Kayn thought.  _ But I’ll let him feel this pleasure, just for a bit.  _ Kayn reached his own orgasm soon, emptying his load into the boy. Talon trembled and felt himself near,  _ so  _ close and could feel himself unraveling.

  
Yet, despite feeling that rush of white-hot pleasure, he didn’t feel satiated. Looking down, his erection throbbed and twitched. Kayn’s hand was tightly clenched around the base. 

“No... Let go of.. your.. your hand...” Talon fumbled, desperately shaking his head. He attempted to pry away Kayn’s hand from him, but his feeble efforts had no effect.

“Why? You said you didn’t enjoy it,” Kayn answered, knowing very well what he’s done to the boy. Talon whimpered and tried to pull his hips back and out of his grip, but no avail.

“Shh,” Kayn reassured. “No need to orgasm, right? Just let me indulge in you.”

Kayn took the calloused and rough palm of his corrupted claw and rubbed it against Talon’s tip. The friction and denial was nothing but pure pain for Talon, who let out a noise that was a mix of a scream to a choked cry. 

“Sto..p..!” He stuttered out, his body convulsing with the touch.

“And why should I?” Kayn asked.

A stream of tears ran down Talon’s cheeks as his poor cock was being denied and palmed. No matter how he pulled or thrusted with his body, Kayn continued to brutalize him.

“I’m sorry.. please! Please, I won’t do anything like that again!”

Kayn grinned sadistically but still refused to halt. He tightened the flesh of his palm so that it clenched onto the spongy tip of Talon’s weeping cock.

“ _ More,”  _ Kayn growled. 

“Please stop! I’ll do anything, anything! I’ll bend over like I was from the whorehouse.. I’ll clean.. I’ll satisfy you... Anything you want!” Talon pleaded. He felt like he was living on the streets again, prostituting himself for a single coin of gold to survive the night. 

Satisfied with the response, Kayn alas removed his hand and loosened his grip on his shaft. He began to gently stroke it, as if rewarding Talon.

The pained cries were now desperate whimperse, so high-pitched and whiny you would’ve assumed he was a girl. He thrusted his hips in time with Kayn’s pumps before he let loose, his own orgasm leaked down his cock, pooling onto his stomach. He broke into a sob as his muscles finally relaxed, and he could feel that same filthy feeling of semen gooey inside him. 

“Fucking pathetic,” Kayn spat before Talon’s vision went black.


End file.
